


It's 3 A.M. (I Must Be Lonely)

by TurtleTotem



Series: Tumblr Ficlets [23]
Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-14 07:17:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14765079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TurtleTotem/pseuds/TurtleTotem
Summary: Drunk-texting your ex in the middle of the night is never a good idea.Is it?(On Tumblrhere. Yes, I changed it from 2 a.m. to 3 a.m. just so I could use Matchbox Twenty lyrics in the title.)





	It's 3 A.M. (I Must Be Lonely)

It’s 3 AM on a Saturday night (i.e. Sunday morning), two weeks after Damen’s boyfriend dumped him, and his phone just woke him up with a text from said boyfriend.

“I miss you.”

Damen just stares at the phone. If it were from literally anyone else, Damen would assume the sender was drunk, but Laurent doesn’t get drunk. Laurent’s had a sip of wine exactly twice in the year Damen’s known him. Does Laurent expect him to be awake? Does Laurent expect him to answer?

Well, Damen has a strong opinion about what Laurent can do with his expectations. He throws the phone across the room and tries (fails) to go back to sleep.

 

Meanwhile, on the other side of town, Laurent is miserably, wretchedly drunk for the first time in his life, and completely unable to understand why anyone ever does this to themselves. Why is getting drunk the culturally accepted/recommended answer to problems in one’s love life when all it does is make it impossible to  _ignore_ how sad and lonely and miserable he is?

The moment he sends the text, he thinks very distinctly that he would burn the world to the ground if it meant Damen would never receive it. Unfortunately, burning the world probably wouldn’t help. Instead, he watches the phone for a response, unconsciously holding his breath until the room starts to spin.

_Read: 3:01 a.m_., it says. But there’s no reply.

Eventually Laurent hides the phone under a pile of cushions, throws up in the bathroom sink, and goes to bed.

 

Two days later, at 3:02 a.m., Laurent wakes to the sound of the ringtone he assigned to texts from Damen’s number – the roar of some kind of giant animal. Clumsy with sleep and something like panic, he drops the phone twice before he can focus his eyes on the message.

_I miss you, too._

By 3:05 a.m., Laurent is outside charming his way into an off-duty cab and giving him Damen’s address.


End file.
